If Things Were Different
by faded-enigma
Summary: My version of a "What-If" story. A series of vignettes/shorts showcasing what would've happened had Katniss and Peeta come together before the actual Hunger Games. Some scenes are my own and some parallel the books. Pieces are written chronologically with the HG universe, but all chapters can be read as standalone one-shots.
1. The Beginning

_Summary: Katniss works up the courage to say "thank you". _

* * *

A small, thin form slides out from a thicket of trees, footfalls nearly silent as she makes her way towards the prone figure. He lies underneath a large willow, his head resting on his book bag and his eyes closed. She can't be sure if he's sleeping, but this is her only chance; he's never alone and if she doesn't do it now, she never will. The young girl moves forward on unsteady legs, her nerves threatening to hold her back. In all of her 11 years, she can't remember ever feeling this anxious to talk to someone. Her eyes survey the area to ensure that they are still alone and inches towards him.

"Peeta?" She calls softly. When he doesn't respond, she moves closer and says his name again. She keeps her voice soft, not wanting to scare him. By the fifth attempt, she's leaning against the tree he's using for shade. Her close presence seems to startle him as his eyes snap open and he stands quickly from his position on the soft earth. He seems disoriented at first and fails to notice that she's there. Katniss shrinks back, her nervousness intensifying as the blonde boy tries to gain his bearings. His gaze finally settles on her and she feels relief when his face relaxes and his mouth forms a small smile.

"Katniss," he says with a chuckle. "Sorry. It's so quiet here and I got really sleepy. Wasn't expecting anybody." His hands reach up to his hair to remove the twigs that have gotten tangled in the strands. "What are you doing here?"

The young girl takes in the picture before her: the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks, the leaf he's missed that dangles above his ear, and the crooked smile he gives her that creates a warmth that spreads within her belly. For a moment, she almost forgets why she's there. She moves her hands to place them in her pockets and feels the remainder of the bread she had taken to school for lunch. She gazes up at him bashfully and offers a timid smile.

"Erg." Katniss is mortified at the sound that comes from her throat and claps her hand over her mouth. Peeta seems to notice her unease and backs up slightly to give her space, though his kind eyes urging her to continue. She looks away from him, unable to hold his gaze for too long.

"Thanksalotforthebread." The words are said quickly, jumbled together in one breath. She fiddles with a wisp of hair, a nervous habit she'd developed as a young child. This is not going the way she'd hoped it would. "Sorry, 'm not very good at this." Peeta's brows knit together in confusion for a moment until realization dawns on him.

"The bread," he whispers, placing his hand on her forearm so that she turns back to him. "You don't have to thank me for that, Katniss. I would do more if I could. I would-I would do all I could for you. And your family." He adds the last part in hastily when he realizes the true weight of his words.

The comment should shock her and, coming from anybody else, would have led her to assume it was a lie. But coming from Peeta, she didn't—she couldn't—doubt the sincerity. She glances down at his hand, which is still on her arm, and is left with an unpleasant coldness when he takes it away.

"We would have starved without it, Peeta," she says firmly. "You saved our lives." She locks her eyes with his and catches a look she can't quite place, but it disappears as quickly as it came and she has no time to dwell.

He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders, his hair flopping over his eyes. As he blows upward to clear his forehead, Katniss takes note of the faded bruise under his eye. She bristles at the sight, unable to believe that anybody could do something so horrible to someone as inherently good as Peeta.

"Your mom's a jerk and I wish so much that I could just punch her in the face!" She blurts it out before she really thinks and gasps in surprise at her own words. She hadn't meant to say it, but Peeta was so kind that day and even now, he's putting her at ease with no more than a few words and mannerisms. The blonde boy's eyes widen before he bursts out laughing.

"Yeah, she can be," he manages to choke out between laughs. His mirth makes her smile and she reaches up a hand to take the leaf out of his hair. Her touch stops him short and he stills, staring at the leaf between her fingers.

"Thank you, Peeta," she says again, this time slower and with more confidence.

"You're welcome, Katniss," he murmurs back. "I'll always be here if you need me." She beams at him, truly grateful.

He smiles suddenly and sprints over towards his forgotten knapsack. Shoving his hand inside, a frown flits across his face as he rifles through the contents. She steps forward, curious as to what he's looking for. Finally, with a noise of triumph, he pulls out a bag filled with small flower-shaped cookies. Peeta sits down and leans back against the tree, indicating for her to do the same. She slowly sinks down to her knees and sits back on her legs.

"My dad gave them to me this morning. I helped make them a few days ago. " He mentions the last part with a note of pride. Opening the bag, he holds it out for her to take one. She stares longingly at the sweets, her mouth watering at the thought of tasting one. But she can't bring herself to take any.

"I-I can't," she says softly. "It's too much. You already gave us bread. I can't take anything else from you."

"No, you can. They're already really stale. We could never sell these. That's why my dad gave me so many." He pushes the package forward, insisting that she take some of the cookies. She thinks to reject them once more, but his blue eyes are so beseeching that her hand reaches out and pulls one out of the bag. She studies it intently, noticing the small intricate lines of icing that cover it.

"It's so pretty," Katniss whispers. "Did you decorate them?"

Peeta smiles shyly and bites into one that he's holding in his hand. "Yeah. My dad says I'm really good. He told me that I could do the cakes someday."

She grins and takes his cue, biting into her own cookie. A delicious, rich taste of sugar and butter fills her tongue and she almost moans with pleasure. She gobbles it down and quickly reaches for another.

"I guess they're good?" Peeta asks, chuckling with fondness. She doesn't answer, but grabs a handful. "I'm sorry they're stale. They usually taste better out of the oven."

Katniss swallows and wipes the crumbs from her mouth before shaking her head emphatically. "They're perfect. I've only had cookies one other time and it was so long ago, I don't even remember what they tasted like." She balks suddenly, angry with herself for saying that to him. The last thing she wants is for him to feel sorry for her. Her cheeks redden with humiliation as she looks down at her dress and brushes the remaining bits onto the grass.

Peeta seems to sense her feelings and sets down the bag in the space between them. "You know…I've been practicing my family's recipes for a few weeks now. It's kinda hard to find people who wanna taste them. Maybe you could help me?"

Katniss raises her eyebrows in surprise. "You have trouble finding people to eat cookies?"

"Well, my family is sick of cookies and they don't wanna sell mine until they're sure I can make them. Will you help me?"

She knows that he may not be entirely truthful in regards to his motives, but once again, he's managed to disarm her. She nods and reaches for a final cookie. "Okay. If it's to help you."

"You're a good friend, Katniss!" Peeta says gleefully. "Thank you."

Katniss stills at the comment. "Is that what we are? Friends?" Her voice is quiet, shy.

"Yes, we are. If you want to be, of course." He adds the last part quickly. She offers a placating smile and he sighs in relief. "I mean, we're sharing food. That's what friends do, ya know?"

"Friends." Katniss repeats, this time as confirmation.

Peeta nods happily and shoves a handful of cookies into his mouth. "I like that we're friends."

"Me, too."


	2. A Realization

_Summary: A scare in the forest and Gale has a realization_

"He's scaring all the game away!"

Gale's glare is enough to startle Peeta into silence, but he should know better than to try that with me. I watch as he stalks off into the forest, the familiar heat of anger already forming in my stomach. Glancing over at the blonde boy next to me, I become aware of the deep-red tinge in Peeta's cheeks and the heat coils tightly into a knot. I push the feeling aside for a moment and offer him a sympathetic smile.

"Don't listen to him, Peeta," I say softly, reaching up to ruffle his hair affectionately. "Gale's been sour all morning. He doesn't mind that you're here. Really." Placing my hand to cup his face, I try not to think of how good it feels when he nuzzles it with his cheek.

"Am I really scaring them away, Katniss?" he asks, his voice full of shame. "I didn't realize I was that loud." My heartstrings tug at the sadness lacing everything he says and I hold back the urge to curse Gale with some very choice words.

"You're just not used to the forest, Peeta," I explain. "Gale and I have been hunting for awhile now. You work in a bakery. It's completely different from what we do." I grudgingly take my hand away from him and bend down to pick up the bow I'd left at my feet. "I mean, honestly, Peeta, can you imagine me in your family's shop? I'd make a mess and I'd burn everything."

He chuckles at the truth of the statement and shakes his head. "We wouldn't have anything to sell."

I join in his laughter, glad that his mood has lifted.

"Why don't you just sit here and relax? Gale and I are going deeper in and it's hard to gain footing if you're not familiar." He nods in assent and moves towards a rock to use as a makeshift chair. I stand and watch for a moment while he takes out a small sketchbook before I start to follow Gale's path.

When I find him, he's bent on the ground checking a line of snares that we'd set up the day before. I know he's still angry when I notice the staccato movements that are so different from his usual grace. I come up behind him and place a hard grip onto his shoulder, feeling the muscles tense beneath my palm.

"Gale, what the hell was that about?" I keep my voice calm, willing myself not to start yelling. His movements are too sudden, too quick, and before I even blink, he's turned to face me.

"Why did you bring him with you?" Gale hisses. "Since when do spoiled merchant brats go hunting?" I can feel the blood boil in my veins as a sharp intake of breath hitches painfully in my throat.

"He is _not_ spoiled, nor is he anything resembling a brat," I seethe, and now I can't stop my voice from getting louder with every word. "He wanted to see where we went, how we do things. He has been nothing but agreeable and you have been awful to him since the moment we arrived. The only brat I acknowledge right now is you!" By the time I utter the last word, my ears itch from the shrillness in my voice.

"This is _our_ time together, Katniss!" I should know better than to assume that Gale will back down. "This forest is ours!"

"He only wanted to join us this once!" I'm shouting now, acutely aware that we must have scared all of the game away. "It's one day, Gale."

"People say things about you two, you know," he says, continuing as though he hasn't heard me, the volume of his voice rising to match mine. "About how the merchant boy is taking on the poor Seam girl as charity."

I recoil in surprise at the harshness of those words. "That's not true," I tell him firmly, but inside, my stomach churns. Without knowing it, Gale has targeted one of my biggest fears: that Peeta only became my friend because he felt sorry for me. "Peeta and I…we care about each other."

"There's another rumor." His voice is snide, but it's dropped to almost a whisper. "That he's only around you because you crawl into his bed every night."

Before I can even register what I'm doing, my hand shoots out with every intention of hitting his face as hard as possible. His reflexes are just as fast, though, and he grips my forearm before I manage to cause any damage. We both stand there for a moment, drowning in the emotions between us. I can feel the anger like flames licking on my skin; his regret does nothing to put out the fire.

"Catnip-" His voice is apologetic, but I don't want to hear it.

"Is that what you think of me?" I ask, my voice low. "That I'm Peeta's Seam slut?"

"Katniss, no. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry." Gale lets out a shuddering breath and releases my arm, his eyes beseeching. "But I see how he looks at you-"

"We're just friends, Gale."

Gale is silent for a moment and what he says next is barely audible. "And I see how you look at him."

The words hang in the air between us and while I can't say that he's right, I have no words to contradict him, either. Instead, we stand there, the air stifling, trying to look at everything but each other. Gale's face is stoic at first, but when I see the look shift into something akin to fear, I realize that something is very wrong. He puts his finger over his mouth and indicates that I should stay quiet.

"Listen," he whispers. I hold my breath and focus on the sounds around me, trying to pick up the noise that he's heard, but all I hear is silence.

Complete silence.

It's then that I understand.

The Mockingjays have stopped singing. Except for one lone bird who trills a song of warning. We hear the running before we're able to spot the pair: a girl with fire-red hair dashing through the woods and a boy following close behind her.

The hovercraft appears out of nowhere. One moment the sky is empty and in the next second, it appears. I know I should hide, but my legs feel like lead and I can't seem to move. I feel Gale's arms encircle my waist as he drags me underneath a shelf of rock and holds me close against his chest. The fear overtakes me and I let myself sink further against him, hoping that the ledge can hide both of us.

Our movements seem to alert the girl to our location. She locks her eyes with mine, desperate, and shouts for our help. I watch, horrified, as a net drops down on the girl and carries her up, a scream for the boy falling from her lips. A spear shoots from the hovercraft and goes cleanly through the boy. He gets hauled up, too, but there is no doubt in my mind that he is dead.

Then, with the blink of an eye, the hovercraft is gone, as though it never existed.

When the ringing in my ears starts to ebb, I become aware that Gale is talking to me.

"…that was all about?" I manage to catch the last part of his words and shake my head in confusion.

"I don't know. We never see hovercrafts in District 12. Gale…that poor boy." My heart aches as I recall the girl's screams, the fear on his face. "Should we be worried?"

"They obviously got what they were coming for," he says grimly. "I don't think their business is with us." He wants to say more, I can tell. Gale has long harbored a deep hatred for the Capitol, but before he can continue, we hear somebody shouting my name.

I know at once that it's Peeta. I can hear the terror in his voice and the sounds of his heavy tread along the forest floor. I shout his name, hoping to lead him to me. It takes him a bit to find us since the ledge keeps us hidden. I feel a weight lift off my chest when I finally see him coming towards us. Relief floods his face, only to be replaced by something unreadable as he notices that Gale's body is still wrapped around mine.

With everything that has happened, I had forgotten the position we were in. I quickly extricate myself from his embrace and stand to move beside Peeta. I glance over and notice the perturbed look on Gale's face, but I choose not to acknowledge it. This seems to mollify Peeta somewhat as his face softens and I can't help but smile as he takes in my form, checking for injuries.

"I'm so glad you two are okay," Peeta says, hugging me to him and placing a soft, pleasant kiss on my forehead. Though I don't want to admit it, and though I know Gale is staring, I can't help but welcome his touch. "I saw the hovercraft, but I was too far away. I couldn't tell if it was you and Gale. Katniss, I was so scared."

I can feel Gale's stare bore into the back of my head, but I don't take my attention off of Peeta. I speak softly to the blonde boy, placating his worries and assuring him that I'm fine.

"I'm going to head to the Hob," Gale says abruptly, effectively ending our conversation. I turn my attention to him and see a strange look flitter across his face. His eyes seem dulled, like they've lost their fire. "Mellark, take care of her okay?"

Something like understanding seems to pass between the two young men and I'm left feeling like I've missed something. Peeta does nothing but nod.

"Let's get you home, Katniss." He takes my hand into his and I can feel him start to tug me away, but I can't quite leave yet.

"Gale-" I start to speak, but the right words don't come. I want to tell him I forgive him. That I'm not angry anymore. Gale cares about me. The way he tried to protect me from the hovercraft showed that. But I've never been good with words, so I muster up a smile and I hope it's enough.

Gale returns my smile, but it doesn't quite meet his eyes.

"Sometimes, a guy has to accept that he just doesn't have enough going for him, Catnip." His words make no sense to me, but he doesn't give me the chance to question him as he's already headed away from us. I look up at Peeta, whose eyes are following Gale as he leaves us. When his gaze connects with mine, he smiles so sweetly that I can't keep myself from mirroring him.

"Home?" He holds out his arm and allows me to link mine through.

I lean my head against his shoulder and can't help but think that when I'm with him, yes, it feels like home. "Yup, your cheese buns are sitting on my kitchen table. We should get back before Prim eats them all."

Peeta chuckles softly and tugs affectionately on my braid before allowing me to drag him towards my house.


End file.
